


Home Sweet Home

by theglamourfades



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Life, Moving In Together, So Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 08:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglamourfades/pseuds/theglamourfades
Summary: Anna and John settle into their cottage. Otherwise known as 'cottage fluff'. S3 set.





	Home Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh - wasn't the end of S3 great?! I wrote this after being inspired by an interview with Brendan Coyle that said we would definitely see Anna and Bates in their cottage. If you ask me we should have seen much more of it!

She only had to do so much as peek through the door as it opened with a slow, tantalising swing, revealing but what was a fraction of what was inside, to find the smile spreading across her face and a warm tingling sensation filling her from head to toe. Her feet remained planted to the spot just outside, a mere step away from crossing the threshold. All she had to do was to raise her leg slightly, but for this minute she found herself rendered completely immobile. It was taking a little time to sink in. While one part of her was urging her to rush forth, questioning her over just exactly what she was waiting for –  _you've wished and wanted for this day to come for what has been an eternity, and now it's here, you're dallying about? Anna Bates, you are funny._ – another revelled in the anticipation, determined to savour every second of discovery, soak up every little bit of happiness. There had been so much of it in the past week, the purest joy she had ever felt in every waking moment, that she had wondered how she hadn't spontaneously combusted from it all. Right now, she noticed that her head felt lighter and her limbs almost weightless; perhaps this was the moment it would all prove too much. The butterflies that had set up home in her stomach burst into explosion as the door's movement came to a stop. Her breath caught in her throat as she observed what was in front of her.

This was it. The cottage. Their cottage.

Lord Grantham had stayed true to his promise, made so long ago, and ensured that one of the cottages on the estate be reserved for his reinstated valet and his daughter's lady's maid to truly start their married life together. He was exceptionally generous indeed, arranging for it to be readied as quickly as possible upon John's release and return to Downton, and Anna was truly thankful. The last week, though necessary for the final arrangements to be made, had at points passed by painfully slowly, although of course it had been eased greatly by the presence of her husband at her side almost all day long at Downton, really there beside her to behold, to reach out and touch at any moment she wished. She felt rather shamed that she should still be so impatient, given that the toughest test that she'd had to endure was finally over. If she could be patient and bear that, as much as it had very nearly crushed her spirit, then surely a few extra days would be simple enough to contend with. Yet it hadn't been days that she had had to wait. The dream of their own home, a place for them to be completely free to love and be loved, had been with her for years. Ever since they had sat together alone after hours in the servants hall, on the night that she had accepted his unconventional proposal and he had first breathed word of it, she had seen herself in that cottage, setting up their home and settled with him, happier than she'd ever imagined it was possible to be. Despite all their trials and tribulations, she had clung onto that dream, had never allowed it to fade from her mind. And now, it was so close on the verge of coming true. She could finally call the life she'd dreamed of for so long theirs. And it would all start as soon as they were inside the cottage. She had the overwhelming urge to run at once from the hall and the house, across the way to the estate, and bang her fists against the doors – she didn't even know which one would be theirs as yet – begging to be let in. Of course, she would wait. If she'd proved anything in her life it was that she was exceptionally good at waiting. But that didn't stop her from longing every second, picturing with vivid detail what it would be like when they were allowed to step inside and shut the world behind them; what it would feel like when he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, put the other gently to her face and kissed her, as a man could kiss his wife in private…

She had not made the walk down to where the cottages were often during his forced absence from her. In fact, she had only done so once, a couple of weeks or so after the news of his reprieve had come. Though her whole body and mind had been flooded with relief in every cell upon the reading of the telegram, she felt herself awaking one morning with the feeling of dejection set firm within her very soul. His life had been pardoned, and she thanked God for his graciousness in allowing it each second, but the fact remained that he was to spend it imprisoned, separated from her not in heart but in body. Every bit of her ached intensely with the mere thought that she would never again hold his hands in hers, that she would not once more brush her lips against his. She felt the world - what was left of it - caving in around her and her legs near enough caving underneath her where she stood, staring from the small window in her tiny room, dazed. Thankfully she had been granted the afternoon free and no sooner had she finished her last task of the morning, had she pulled on her coat and hat and braved the cold and torrential January rain to rush over to the estate, nearly tripping up over her feet within the tangle of trees that marked the path towards it. There she stood, drenched to the bone through her thin coat, shivering, staring at the row of cottages in front of her. Raindrops trickled down her face, or perhaps it was the tears that she had started to cry impulsively as her eyes focused firm upon them. In her absolutely wretched state, she was still able to feel a calm come over her, feeling the melancholy slowly ebb away. It was the reminder she needed on that day; that some finer day in the future she would be returning. That life was not lost; it was just merely on hold.

Just days before, the time had come for her to return, this time with the sun on her face and her feet on the ground, though she really felt as if she were walking on air. Walking, with his hand clasped in hers, keeping her centred and secure, at least on the outside. It was quite a different story underneath the surface, as her insides jumped and flipped with every step, her heart threatening to soar out of her chest every time she craned her head and gazed up to look into his eyes, which she had never known to twinkle quite so much as they did ever since he had stepped from behind those gates. He'd stopped them while they were on their way, on the part of the path most secluded and surrounded by the trees, unable to resist waiting any longer to lean in and give her a tender kiss. She shivered all over at the contact, still so thrilling and unexpected, even though they'd managed to share quite an amount of kisses in the time he'd been back, yet Anna would still concede that they were nowhere near enough. Still, they had all the time in the world to catch up now. The impromptu kiss was perhaps even sweeter than the rest had been given that it was out of doors, yet still so close to Downton. Not too long ago, it would have been considered incredibly risky for them to have enjoyed a kiss so openly, but now they had no burdens, nothing and nobody to watch over their shoulders for. They were free, truly, to share and show their love and neither was willing to be restrained. Even before he pulled away from her lips, Anna could feel the wide smile that was playing upon his own and she quivered to see him beaming at her with so much love in his eyes. John Bates would never fail to melt her heart and leave her like a lovesick teenager. When they had walked on to find themselves at the row of cottages, their fingers laced tighter together and she grasped her free hand around his wrist, so overjoyed and excited that he was finally getting to see what she had. She felt his body sigh with contentment and disbelief as he gazed at the little houses, and then to her.

"I still can't believe I'm here. I keep pinching myself."

She smiled up at him, so enamoured by his ever-humble exclamations.

"Believe."

On hearing the one word, which she'd uttered with such conviction, he squeezed the hand that was in his, then stroked his fingers across her knuckles softly. The smile he was wearing stretched even further up into his eyes, the crinkles that she adored so much appearing clearly at their edges.

She found she had to repeat the same affirmation over and over to herself as she adjusted to all that was surrounding her. Having found the inclination to make the move, guided by his large hand lying supportive on her back, just above her hip, she was now standing inside the cottage, just a couple of steps into the little hallway. The interior was just what she had envisioned in all of the fantasies she had conjured up in her mind throughout the years, yet still utterly surprising. It was quite simple; a wooden staircase leading to the upper floor to the left, a door covering a compact closet on the right hand side, and straight ahead a door standing slightly ajar which she assumed led to the sitting room. There wasn't all that much space to move, but she didn't mind at all. It's not like they would be living in the hall. And she rather liked it. Straight away, they were immersed in it. Their home. She didn't have to see much of it, didn't have to scrutinise all of its nooks and crannies to know at once that it was utterly perfect; that it could have been made for them especially.

Hearing him shut the door behind them shook her a little, and in that minute she didn't have to dream or believe any longer; it simply was. Seconds later his hands were reliably back on her, holding her firm at the waist, the warmth of his touch radiating through her layers of clothing and sending further tingles shooting through her. She sunk back against his body, moulding and melting into him, and she turned her head to the side, smiling against his chest. She stayed perfectly still for a few moments, and would have been content to hold the same position for the rest of time, until he pushed slightly, so both hands could travel slowly up her sides. Even through her layers, she could feel his fingertips tickle against her skin and she stifled a giggle as they continued their movements. His hands came to rest upon her shoulders, lingering there a little while as he smoothed the collar of her coat, before pulling it from her effortlessly. Then, he gently lifted the wide-brimmed hat from her head, pushing the few errant hairs that had fallen loose from her bun back behind her ear and looked deep into her eyes, her face open and uncovered to him. His thumb stroked slowly down her cheek before arriving at her chin, and he used it to tilt her head softly back so he could lay a feather-light kiss on her lips. She lifted herself up on her tiptoes towards him to deepen the kiss, and nearly lost her balance as his tongue slid across her lower lip. Her hand clung onto his neck, fingers caressing the soft hair at the nape as her mouth relished tasting him. All too quickly the contact was lost, but she was assured by one of his hands stroking down her spine and landing to rest at the small of her back. She smiled as she watched him carefully hang her coat and hat on one of the two little hooks that were fixed to the wall at the side of the door.

"Home sweet home," he breathed in a voice hoarse from the passionate exertions of their kissing.

Their home. She couldn't possibly imagine anything that could ever be sweeter.

She kept her eyes fixed to him as he slipped from his own coat and removed his hat. As he hung the coat up, her hand brushed against his as she took the bowler and placed it upon the hook where his coat now was, the sleeve stretching out towards the side of hers which was at its side.

"It really is. And now, I think it's high time for us to get settled into it," she said in a teasing tone, taking his hand firm in hers once more and pulling him with little effort further into the cottage to begin to explore.

* * *

Her light steps flitted back and forth across the floor of the small sitting room, almost skipping as she continued to remove items from the boxes – which he was surprised to discover held so much, seeing as neither of them had all that much in their personal possession – and set about placing them around the room, picking objects up again no sooner had she made the decision to put them down. She stood just before the fireplace, head tilted to one side, fingers drumming against her hip and feet bobbing about as she pondered the position of two silver-plated candle holders that had been graciously given to them from Mr Carson, from his own personal collection, no less. John couldn't keep the smile from blooming on his face as he lovingly regarded his beautiful wife, her features wrinkled so deep in thought but her whole manner still displaying the absolute exhilaration she had maintained from the very second they had stepped through the door of the cottage. Over all of the years he had been honoured to know and love her, he most cherished the moments he had seen her radiate with happiness, her smile being bright enough to light the whole of Downton and bring joy to even the hardest heart. He was just sorrowful she had not had the cause to shine in the past months; yes, she would always reserve secret smiles solely for his eyes when she came to see him, which would sometimes prove to turn especially mischievous with the mention of certain subjects, but he knew that they never fitted her face quite right. When he would return to his cell after her all too brief visits, he admonished himself again and again for being the one responsible for stealing her sunshine, for gradually dampening the spark within her and depriving her of the chance to be truly happy, leaving her as good as a widow as he languished behind bars. That's why he was so relieved to have seen her beam brighter than she ever had done before on that day of days, the moment when they were finally reunited and able to rush into one another's arms. As they had travelled back to Downton in the car that Lord Grantham had sent, her hand had ran up and down his arm and she had said that he was the only reason she ever needed to be happy. Even though he had been sure of it deep down, his heart still contracted in his chest as he heard her say the words, sweeping away all of his doubts and fears that he was still letting her down, even after so long. The smile had not left her face since, and had grown even wider as they had settled in here. He revelled in all the new quiet moments he had to observe her in the joy that was so uniquely hers, and was her completely, and he had a particular affection for seeing her so animated in the business of making up their new home. He knew she had waited so long to be able to do so, as he also had to be able to be in it with her, and she positively glowed every single second she busied herself with furnishing their cottage.

"I'm not quite sure they look right there."

Anna took a few steps back from where she had stood, eyes staring at the candle holders that had been placed at the ends of either side of the fireplace by her fair hands. After a few more moments of silent, considered study, she swivelled round to face him where he sat on one of the corner chairs, looking much more relaxed than she was at the present time.

"What do you think?"

"I think…they look absolutely wonderful," John issued in a lazy, dreamy drawl. "Just wonderful."

He had to admit that he wasn't giving the slightest bit of consideration to the gleaming candle holders; instead all of his attention was rapt upon the sight of Anna, standing so poised and graceful yet full of the nimble dexterity she possessed when it came to performing a task and doing so with such dedication, pouring every part of her body into it. He watched her, absolutely enchanted, as she stepped further again into the afternoon sunlight that streamed into the room, falling over her face and arms as she moved to reach out to the candle holders once more. The rays made her golden blonde hair glisten and her blue eyes shine captivatingly. They were perfectly complimented by the paler shade of the dress she was wearing, one of her new favourites that he believed had been passed to her by Lady Mary. It was one of his favourites too. He confessed that he had never really noticed Lady Mary wearing it – he couldn't say he had a particular eye for picking out the fashions of the Crawley girls – but on Anna, he couldn't fail to notice how breathtaking it was. The way it exposed her wrists and just a touch of her lower arms, and how it scooped beautifully around her collarbone, always giving him the irresistible urge to trail his lips there gently. The way it clung possessively to all of her curves, accentuating her in all the right places. As she stretched up to adjust the positioning of the holders, the fabric rose up a little and highlighted the subtle tightening of her spine, his eyes following all the way up to gaze upon the elegant slope of her neck. While her right hand twisted the silver base of one of the holders, her left came to rest at the side of her neck, brushing it aimlessly. He'd come to known that it was a habit of hers to do this, a little comforting gesture that she applied when she was thinking carefully about something or otherwise unsettled. Though she didn't know it, it was an action that had quite a profound effect on him, and at this point in time it was all he could do not to go up behind her, sweep his own fingers across hers over the same area, before removing her hand and replacing it with his mouth. He brought himself back from the brink of fevered desire and stayed studying her quick movements. He noticed her wedding band glinting in the ray of light that was resting upon her. A warmth composed him completely.  _Thank God for her_ , was all he could think. He loved her, every inch of her, so thoroughly and so very much.

She let out a sigh, and it sounded as sweet as birdsong.

"I'll just have to leave them where they are for now, else I won't get anything else done today." She smoothed the palms of her hands down over the skirt of her dress and walked over to the settee, where one of the boxes stood. "I haven't even started on changing the bed, and I was determined to get that done."

A roguish grin crept up onto his lips. "There's no need, is there? I'm finding the bed perfectly comfortable as it is. Aren't you?" He raised his eyebrows and had to stop himself from chuckling.

"Well, it's certainly very inviting," she glanced to the side with a deceptively innocent expression on her features, and he wanted to sweep her up there and then, "and I'm definitely quite content with most of what's within there…" – oh, there she was again, the naughty girl. Now he definitely had to fight to keep his self-control and not rush her there instantly to make her more than just  _quite content_ – "…but I can't shake the feeling of knowing that those sheets were there before we got here. And seeing as something or other has always proved a distraction in remedying that until now," – she smiled just as impishly at him and he was very aware of a burning deep within him on the flicker in her eyes – "I've resolved to not go another night without ensuring that it is truly ours." Her hand once again lingered teasingly upon her neck; John suspected that she knew  _exactly_ what that action did to him, and for a second he expected her to fling herself upon him where he sat and forget all about the matters of bed linen, theirs or not, but instead she tossed her head and turned her attention back to unpacking the contents remaining in the box. He heard a groan escape from the back of his throat and he was sure he could detect a low giggle coming from her.

"These are just lovely," her body turned once more to lay out a bundle of cotton sheets, a print of small flowerbuds dotted across them. She travelled her hand the length of them languidly, and John found himself suddenly rather jealous. "It was so nice of Lady Grantham to give them to us." Anna continued to admire them carefully and he smiled softly at her doing so. "I think it'll have to be these, definitely at first. They're just so soft."

"I leave the decision entirely in your hands. If you're happy, my sweet, then I am too."

He considered that they could have been lying on dustsheets for all he cared; as long as he was lying with her at his side every night, he noticed no other detail.

"I am happy. So very, very happy…" Her voice whimpered and cracked, and he saw that her shoulders had started to shake slightly. Immediately, he rose, walked to stand behind her and circled his arm around her waist.

"What's the matter?"

She turned around, her eyes directed at his middle and her hand clutching upon the wrist of the arm that was upon her.

"I'm just still having moments where I'm certain that this is all a dream, and in the next moment I'll wake up back in my old room in Downton, and you'll still be back there, and it'll all be a cruel trick," her words came out in a rush, her voice breathy with the sobs she was trying to keep at bay. His other hand flew up to caress the softness of her cheek, burning with heat, and she closed her eyes momentarily and smiled wistfully against it. She shook her head slightly, and he dropped his hand down to her side, stroking softly to soothe her further. "I know I'm being silly, I know this is all real and I'm so happy I could burst, but I've felt that way before…"

A pang of guilt struck in his stomach as his hand subconsciously moved back and forth across her hipbone.

"There's no need to fear, my darling. There is nothing left in this world to trouble us, to go against us. Within these walls, our happiness is completely safe." He placed his other hand tenderly upon her back, and she arched further towards him. "I understand your fears; I have felt them too, so keenly over some time. But now we're here, I know they are all behind us. So long as we are here, and even when we're not, you should never worry." He inched closer to her, brushing his lips against her cheek before dropping his mouth to her ear. "From now on, there is nothing on earth that will make me leave your side," he whispered softly, and these words seemed to have the most powerful effect upon her, as she calmed immediately, stopped shuddering, and pressed both of her arms to his chest, holding onto him. His circled around her, keeping her safe in his embrace for some moments.

After a little while, Anna looked up at him with imploring eyes and he felt his heart swell with love for her. Her hands toyed at the edges of his jacket and she took a deep breath. "Thank you," she exhaled.

"You have no need to thank me. I can never begin to thank you enough, for all of this."

She smiled sincerely, gazing up at him in fascination all anew, before she was fully composed once more and stepped away, leaving him to be the one that was now a little stunned.

"Now," she said, lifting a ream of silky fabric from the box, "you need to help me put these curtains up."

John sighed audibly, placing a hand back upon her waist before lacing her fingers in his. "Can't they wait until tomorrow?"

Anna smirked in response to his complaint, twitching an eyebrow upwards and finding herself walking back towards him. "Mr Bates, are you purposely trying to distract me from finishing decorating our home?"

"Perhaps," he chuckled as he took some steps back, leading her along with him where he went, and smiling at her with eyes he knew she wouldn't be able to resist. He sank down onto the cushion of the settee, keeping her in place between his legs and bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles gently, then placing his lips just above where her wedding band lay. "There's all the time in the world for hanging curtains. Besides, I don't think you know just how comfortable this spot is, and I think you should see for yourself." He flashed her a grin, and she let out a melodious laugh.

"Oh, really?" she said, sliding her fingers across his softly.

"Really…"

With that, he could wait no longer to feel her body against his, and with a quick tug upon her waist he pulled her down onto him, his ears filling with her squeals and giggles and his eyes roaming all over her as she curled herself incredibly close against him.

"Well," she breathed in his ear, "it does seem pleasing. But I think we'll have to stay here a little longer, just to be completely sure."

* * *

Anna yawned and rubbed a free hand over her face, keeping her other hand firmly upon the handle of the pan. The new day was slowly coming to life and it was coaxing her into it too, in part thanks to the pale yellow light that was beginning to fill the room. But what was really awaking her senses was the pleasing heat of the stove which was working away, making her positively toasty warm, and the tempting aromas of the breakfast that was cooking, that she kept a careful eye over. She blinked with extra force to ensure that the remnants of sleep were well and truly removed. She couldn't remember getting that much sleep at all, and the memory caused her to smile. The smell of the food rose up, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation with a touch of irritability too. She wished she would have put in a couple of extra rashers for herself, but a silly part of her still found herself a little self-conscious of appearing greedy and unladylike. Not that she was a lady anyway, and he knew as much. Turning the dials down to the lowest simmer, she stepped back from the stove and surveyed her surroundings with a quiet satisfaction. If there was one thing she knew about herself, it was that she was most definitely not a morning person. She cringed a little to think of all the mornings she had stomped down the stairs at Downton, with a scowl upon her face that wouldn't move until she'd had her cup of morning tea. She laughed to consider how with all of her sleepy haziness she had still had the nous every morning to guarantee that she would be downstairs with a drained cup at her side before he'd make an appearance to greet her. Yet she found her demeanour had altered, if only slightly, here at the cottage. Surprisingly, she would find herself wanting to rise a little earlier, to pad downstairs before he awoke and get herself busy, pottering and preparing. Nothing she did here seemed like a chore, but she had got a particular enjoyment from being in her little kitchen, setting everything up for another morning, another wonderful day.

Perhaps her new-found early morning cheer had to do with the fact that she was spending the time in her very own kitchen. The serenity and cosiness of it was distinctly different from the atmosphere of the kitchen in Downton, which always seemed to be bustling from the very breaking of dawn to way past dusk. Aside from dashing in to carry out plates, she had never really spent that much time in there and certainly didn't use it for what it was intended for; even if she had got a spare hour or so in any of her busy days to try her hand at something culinary, she didn't expect that Mrs Patmore would have been too thrilled at the thought of anyone but the kitchen staff invading her domain. Memories flashed into her head of her childhood home, spending hours in the kitchen alongside her mother, helping her to prepare the evening meal, peeling potatoes. There were also the times when her mother would bake, cakes and bread, and she and her younger sister would be the helpers. She could see herself and her sister now, standing on chairs at the counter, their hands and faces covered with flour as their mother swiped it from them and told them not to make too much of a mess, before looking at them and laughing delightedly. They'd watch carefully as their mother put the tin into the stove, and Anna would sit at the table, waiting patiently for the dough to magically transform. As she got a little older, before she left for Downton, she'd spend afternoons in the kitchen baking batches herself, and most of the time was quite pleased at how her creations turned out. Her skills were a little rusty now, having not done anything in the kitchen for so long, but she was confident that she could rediscover the knack, and she was itching to start practising again. She had been excited to settle herself into every room in the house, but most of all, whenever she pictured what it would be like, she would always see the little kitchen. New visions began to fill her head; of her of an evening, cooking a roast dinner, conscientious at the stove, even as his hands slipped about her waist and his chin rested upon her shoulder. One arm would come round to travel a little higher up her body, resting just underneath her breasts. She'd deftly manage to caress it with nimble fingertips, before playfully swatting it away and carefully passing him a knife so he could help her prepare the vegetables. She'd bake again, cakes and biscuits and pastries. He'd watch her from the table then come over to observe her closely, and she'd teach him what to do, taking his hands, stroking the roughened palms gently before delving his hands into the flour. It'd end up all over her apron, then his waistcoat, until the room was a haze of flour and the task at hand was quite forgotten. Little hands dancing upon the counter, little bodies being held safe in place by their father's strong, safe hands as they balanced on stools, chattering with delight as they watched their mother place the golden sponge cake in front of their wide eyes…

The whistling of the kettle startled her, and she giggled at herself as she took it from the stove and set it down upon its stand on the table. Aside from that loud interruption there was no other sound in the room, and as she went about decorating the table with the cutlery and other effects, she detected movement upon the ceiling. A smile spread across her lips as before long, the unmistakeable footfalls sounded closer and a fuzzy feeling swirled in her stomach, replacing her pangs of hunger. The next time she turned around, he was at the doorway, still in his pyjama bottoms but with an undershirt covering his top half, a little tuft of dark chest hair escaping from the neckline. His hair had been combed but still had a slightly dishevelled appearance, and a stray lock hung awry over his forehead, curling a little above his right eye. One of her hands clutched upon the spindles of the chair closest to her, in order to prevent her knees from buckling on the sight of him.

"I see you've taken care of everything," his voice came out still gruff with sleep, but with a definite softness to his tone too. He ambled across to where she was standing, holding onto the wooden chair for dear life.

"That I have," her arms lifted to circle around his neck as his splayed at the small of her back, pulling her into him without the slightest bit of resistance. "I very much like taking care of you. I've waited long enough to do so."

He smirked down at her, his eyes soft and searching, and if she hadn't been wrapped so securely underneath his fingers, she was sure she would have come apart completely.

"And I'm very thankful that you did."

One of his hands came up to cup her cheek and his head dipped down, the little lock of hair tickling against her forehead. She smiled with the sensation before her lips were lost against his, so soft and pliable. The kiss that had started off slow and sweet grew in ardour and intensity. Her hands scrambled across his shoulders as their tongues met one another in a caress. His lips tugged on her bottom one intently, and she let out a muffled moan, all of her nerves tingling at the action. His tongue swiped itself across her slightly swollen lip to soothe, before he left her with a kiss so gentle.

"We certainly couldn't do that at the kitchen in Downton," he exhaled, his warm breath upon her face.

She couldn't help giggle. "Certainly not. I think it would finish poor Mr Carson off." Her hands played against the neck of his undershirt, trying to twist one of the buttons open. "That's why I'm so glad we have our own now. Amongst other reasons, obviously."

He smiled as he watched her fingers fumble against him, and covered them with his hands. "Some better than others," he said in a low growl as his fingertips trailed all over her hands and across her wrists, sending delightful shivers that soared through the rest of her body. Her eyes flickered up to see his own gazing to the very heart of her, and for a few seconds she was sure it had stopped.

She had to stop – as much as it pained her – and gather her thoughts. "You'd better have your breakfast. I didn't get up so early to have it go cold."

"We could have had breakfast in bed," he mused as he made to move towards the table.

Anna raised her eyes and smiled. "You know how that went the other day. We ended up having to scavenge some of Mrs Hughes' leftover toast when we got to Downton." She had to admit, tepid toast was worth it that particular morning. But today there'd be something far more substantial.

"There you go," she chimed as she placed the plate, piled high, in front of him. "I'm not sure it's quite as good as how Mrs Patmore does it. And the bacon ended up a little burnt at the edges, but I've cut most of it off."

John grinned down at the feast, the very same thing that he'd enjoyed as his first meal as a free man, now all the better as it'd been prepared so lovingly by his wife. "Well, it looks delicious. And I'm certain it will taste so too." He smiled warmly at her, but his eyes looked rather quizzical. "It's not a special occasion, is it?"

Anna beamed back. "Every day is a special occasion while we're here. And I should hope it will stay that way for some years yet." Before he picked up his knife and fork, he reached out for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, and her heart jumped once more. "Besides, it'll keep your strength up."

"Am I not meeting your standards, Mrs Bates?"

She tried to feign a shocked expression but couldn't stop herself from smirking. "Cheeky beggar, I was simply talking about the fact you've got a long day ahead and it'll see you through." His eyebrows quirked upwards, reading instantly the meaning she was trying to playfully hide. "But, I'm happy to say they're being more than met. For now, anyway. In the future, who can say…?" She swirled the tea-towel she was holding about her waist, pulling it through her fingers with a twinkle playing about her eyes.

"Anna Bates, you know how to keep a man on his toes. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I'm glad," she smiled sweetly, as she took her seat at the table with her scrambled eggs and toast.

They sat, bathed in the early sunshine enjoying their breakfasts, making their way through the pot of tea and easily talking about the day ahead between mouthfuls. Their hands stretched across the table without them even being aware, fitting together snugly, and underneath the table, their feet issued attentive and delicate brushes against each other. Anna felt one of his sidle up to swirl and stroke the bare skin of her ankle, and she inhaled sharply, before taking a gulp of tea to settle herself.

"It could be a while before I get back tonight," he broke the comfortable silence. "His Lordship has quite a few commitments concerning the business of the estate. I'm not completely sure why I should accompany him; he seems to be seeking my advice, for as much as it's worth."

"It's worth a lot," she interjected. "Besides, he's missed your company. I dare say there's not that much he could have spoken to Thomas about, aside from the usual small talk about dinner suits and shirts. He's relishing the chance to speak what's really on his mind, and know that it'll be listened to with consideration and appreciation. He wants to spend as much time with you as he can. I certainly don't blame him on that account." She smiled sincerely, but couldn't keep the sigh from sounding in her voice as she spoke. It was very selfish, she knew; he did have duties and demands elsewhere, as did she, but every second spent away from him was a second too long, and there had been far too many that had been missed.

"I'll try not to be too long, but then it isn't up to me. Just so you don't worry and sit staring at the clock while you're here."

"Oh, I'll not leave without you." There hadn't been one night so far – granted, there hadn't been that many – where they had not departed and returned together, hand in hand. Whether it was her or him who finished earlier than the other, they would sit waiting patiently in the servants' hall until they were able to go back to their home for the night. "Even it takes all night."

He simply smiled at her, enclosing his hand over hers.

"I'll just have to save cooking our evening meal for another time," Anna sighed. As of yet, they hadn't been able to come back to their own kitchen at the other end of the day to sit down once more and share the events of the day in complete, perfect privacy.

"Oh, Anna. I'm sorry. There will be many other evenings in store where we can dine here together, and I will eagerly anticipate every one." He laid her hand flat against his palm, lifted it from the table and bent his head to leave the imprint of his lips upon them.

"It's not your fault," she said, loving the feel of him pressed to her, assuring and sweeping away all of her silly troubles. "Unless…we could always have a midnight feast."

His eyes lifted once more. "I like the sound of that." His voice dropped to a lower register as he regarded her. "Although I can say with some certainty now that at that time I will have hunger for something else entirely."

A fire started to surge up within her as his gaze burned into her.

"Mr Bates, you are utterly impossible."

But she was sure she wouldn't have him any other way.

* * *

There was a lot of steam filling the room. An inordinate amount. Far too much. Really, near enough the whole room, as small as it was, was comprised of it. John had an inkling that something might have gone wrong.

Though he wasn't sure how it was possible to perform the simple task of drawing a bath so disastrously. There wasn't much room for error, surely, and the formula was certainly not complicated. Perhaps he'd stumbled as he was not used to having done so for anyone other than himself before, and when it came to bathing he was fairly easy to please. He certainly wasn't lackadaisical with matters, but a dunk of ten minutes usually sufficed, and he was not the type to wallow in water for hours on end; it merely set his mind fluttering, thinking of all the other things he could be getting through, and that was something he did not need any further help with.

But he had learnt that one of Anna's simple pleasures in life was to set some time aside at the end of her busy day and immerse herself, soaking and soothing her strains away. He had discovered that it was a leisure pursuit that she was anything but leisurely with; she had no qualms about occupying the bathroom for a considerable amount, with precise preparations beforehand adding to the time she spent laid in there. Anxious to get himself to bed, he had found himself getting slightly frustrated waiting for her to emerge so he could ready himself for the night, but any annoyance dissolved and drained away like water as he glimpsed her with the sponge wiping suds over her neck, the hair at the nape darkened with dampness, the skin of her shoulder glistening. He'd had to nearly run back to the bed before she'd caught him, so completely and utterly entranced by the vision of her. Then she'd stroll into the adjoining room afterwards, with the cares of the world melted away from her as a deeply satisfied smile lit up her face. As she climbed into bed next to him, the silk of her skin sliding against his own and making him feel as if he had been transported to heaven, he breathed in her scent, even more alluring than usual; soap, powder, a hint of lemon and then of lavender, all mixing together with something that was always uniquely her. He would happily let her spend the whole day there when she emerged even more wonderful and captivating.

So, in part for the benefits that would befall him as a result, but predominately because he knew she loved them so much, he had decided that tonight he would draw her a bath which would be waiting to welcome her as soon as she stepped through the door. While he had been able to finish his duties relatively early, Anna had been occupied all day accompanying Lady Mary on a shopping trip in Ripon. This morning before her departure she had smiled and said that she may have been able to sneak away for a little while to procure some little trinkets for the cottage, but she wouldn't have had much free time for herself and despite them being chauffeured around the town, her feet would still be aching from traipsing in and out of shops and her body tired from a long day out of doors. Such a luxurious treat would be just the thing she needed – if only his plan hadn't fallen spectacularly to pieces. Wearing a deeply concerned expression upon his furrowed brow, he bent down to dip an elbow into the water. It was almost scalding. For him it would have been fine, but it was most definitely unsuitable for Anna's delicate skin.

"Oh dear."

Her sweet voice was at his back, and he turned around to see her, robe wrapped around her frame and her loosely braided hair laying over one shoulder. Thankfully, her beauty hadn't been rendered invisible by the mist that surrounded them.

"I have no idea what went so wrong. It takes rather a big fool to mess up running a bath." He shuffled his feet, gazing at them forlornly.

A hand clamped upon his arm, and she ran it up and down with comforting strokes.

"It's not the end of the world. You have no idea how much I adore you for trying in the first place." She craned up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek and even in the heat of the room he felt himself flush. "It might not be as bad as it appears."

Anna softly padded across to where the bath stood and laid one hand on its edge, as she lowered the fingers of her other slowly into the water. He saw her pale skin flash an intense shade of red as soon as they had made contact and flinched, admonishing himself for even letting her attempt to salvage the disastrous situation.

"It's a bit hot," her voice shuddered a little and he wanted to cry.  _A bit hot_  was an understatement; it was the temperature of lava.

"I'm sorry," his voice came out almost in a whisper as she rose up from where she had crouched, her fingers still glowing. He had the urge to take them immediately and kiss away yet another one of his mistakes.

"Don't be silly. Nothing awful's happened." He could tell she was holding back her laughter from looking at his wretched expression, and the act made a smirk slowly creep upon his lips. The reddened tips of her fingers started to play with the end of her braid as her eyes flittered about the room and he found himself utterly distracted from his feelings of inadequacy.

"There's always a solution and a use that can be put to something that's lost its use, or so my mother always used to say." Thoughts rushed across her face until one settled into place. A bright smile set upon her features as she seemed to come up with the solution to this particular problem.

John watched enraptured as she began to undo the ribbon that held her hair in place. Oh god, having her in front of him wearing only a robe was quite enough to set all of his senses running wild, but this really was too much temptation. His biggest weakness was seeing her shake her hair loose; as soon as those golden locks tumbled down upon her shoulders, he wanted instantly to tangle his hands there, curl them in his fingers, bury his nose against the strands and breath all of her in, let her give him new life. How he would keep control he did not know. Poor Anna; she could not have imagined when she spoke her vows believing she was giving her heart and soul to a noble, honourable man that she would end up being forever tied to an insatiable creature driven by base, lustful instincts.

With a quick tug, her hair was free and flowed all around her, shining like a perfect halo. She tossed it behind her with an effortless movement as she walked back over to the bath in the middle of the room. When she reached it, she braced both hands to its side and knelt down on the cold floor. He was still completely oblivious to her reasoning, eyes and attention focused purely on the figure of her looking so reverential, so very angelic in her demeanour. Slowly, she dipped her head forward, masses of hair becoming submerged into the water. Her shoulders shuddered a little and he heard her take in a sharp breath as she adjusted to the searing temperature. Then she settled, and slid her hands into the rippling water, raking fingertips expertly through her locks and splashing wetness against the nape of her neck.

Rediscovering some of his capabilities, he moved across towards her, still mesmerised by her swift actions. Crouching down by her side, he touched a tentative hand upon her back and was surprised that she did not start, instead welcoming his touch as she always did.

"Let me," he breathed, as his fingers drifted slightly up her spine. They arrived to grasp firmly to her shoulder, and his other hand held her about the waist as he helped her to turn herself around, so the back of her neck was resting against the edge of the bath and she was sitting, her face turned upwards towards his. In the rearrangement, some of the water had shot up and sloshed from the bath but neither could pay much attention to notice, both completely immersed in the moment. The arms of his rolled up shirt sleeves got soaked as he plunged his arms into the bath and began cautiously to comb his fingers through her hair as it flowed out against the water. She fluttered her eyelids shut and let out a little mewl as he kept on, and the delightful sound encouraged him to increase the pressure of his strokes slightly. He wouldn't have believed it was possible, but her hair was even silkier and more inviting when it had been wet, and his fingertips slid through the strands with so much ease. The expression on her face told him without doubt that she was incredibly relaxed, and he felt peace flow through him just as powerfully. As he brought his hands up to gently massage her scalp he noticed a droplet of water running down her nose. Keeping one hand tangled within her hair, he took the other from the bath, dried it against his trousers and ever so gently wiped the trickle away from her. Her head shook a little at the tickle and she wrinkled her nose, a smile that was the beginning of a giggle erupting on her face. He stroked the hand across her forehead a few times before submerging it once more, resuming the job that had been interrupted.

Minutes later, he grasped her hand in his, assisting her as she got back onto her feet, her steps stumbling a little at first upon the tiles. She breathed in steadily, letting go of him slowly and then running her hand up and down his arm once more, with fingers that shook ever so faintly.

"Well," she said, with an incredibly satisfied smile on her face, "I think that was certainly a good way to solve things."

* * *

The bare little box room still smelt strongly of paint, even though they had decorated it a couple of days previous. Standing right in the middle of the empty space, Anna sniffed, not overly enamoured by the aroma hitting her sharply at the back of her throat but finding that she couldn't move just yet, not while there still hung a problem over her head. At the moment, it seemed to be an unanswerable dilemma, though she was ruminating and running through several answers in her mind. It was the problem of exactly what use the room should be put to.

She gazed hard at the shade of colour that adorned the walls. A very pale yellow. Soft, warming. Neutral. The shade would suit all manner of purposes. Having not come up with a firm idea between them what could be done with it, it was a subconscious decision to go ahead and paint it in that colour regardless, knowing whatever it eventually became it would fit perfectly. Also, it was rather useful that the tin of paint had been left over from some of the redecorations that had been going on at Downton, of some of the rooms that Lady Mary and Mr Matthew were currently inhabiting.

It was rather handy to have a leftover space, she considered, somewhere completely free of any associations and uses. There were so many ways in which it could be occupied. Perhaps there were just too many, and that's why she was coming to such a loss trying to envision them. One thing she knew is that she didn't want it to be useless in a year's, even a few months time. Otherwise the door would always be closed and it would simply go to waste. The thought of a permanently empty room in their home left her with a deep-seated feeling of unsettlement and sent a shudder running through her. She looked out at the cherry-blossom tree that hung over the fence of their square patch of a back garden and let a thoughtful sigh escape from her unaware.

The immediate option that came to her was to turn it into a miniature library. John certainly had enough books already and she was sure that he would buy and be given more in the future, and putting some shelves up in here would stop them from overtaking their bedroom. It was an incredibly practical solution, and one which she thought was rather grand too. Their own little library in their own cottage; how envious people would be. Otherwise, she thought it might make a splendid little room for her to do some sewing in. She could picture herself tucked away up here for an hour or so of a quiet Sunday afternoon, in an incredibly comfortable chair, working through something contently, looking out upon the rather sweet and picturesque view from the window. It would be a terrible shame for that to go unobserved, she thought. She decided she would rather it be something that they could both get use and pleasure out of, so the first idea appeared the most preferable.

From the corners of her mind came rushing a perfectly clear image of what she knew deep within her heart was the only true purpose she ever wanted to put the room to, and at once she felt positively giddy with the possibility and saddened that right now it seemed so distant. She imagined herself twisting the handle of the door carefully and seeing it anew, everything looking so ideal in its place. The crib, cushioned with soft white blankets, a scruffy brown teddy bear sitting at one of its corners. A little changing table, piled with tiny garments of clothing; a nursing chair positioned against the windowsill. In time, she'd gaze out of the window and see a little swing planted underneath the cherry-blossom tree and watch full of joy as their child soared across the air in it, John standing behind ever watchful, hands out ready to catch the little body if it should tumble, or otherwise to give a gentle, encouraging push as the cheerful giggles went on, pleading to go higher.

The branches of the tree shook wildly as a wind outside picked up its strength, and Anna felt the force of it hit her too, even though she was safely encased within the walls. She blinked back the tears that had started to prick at her eyes.

She sensed his footsteps upon the floor and swiftly dabbed away the wetness that had formed, putting a soft smile on her face as her head glanced over her shoulder to take him in.

"So this is where you've got to," he said as he arrived at her back, scooping his arms around her middle and nestling close, his warmth enveloping her immediately.

"I lost track of time," she smiled against his chest and settled her head in the curve below his shoulder. His hands slowly drifted upon her sides as they both gazed ahead, watching the cherry-blossoms whirl in the air before fluttering softly onto the grass below. "I was just thinking of what we could possibly do with this room."

He laid a soft kiss upon her earlobe and pulled her closer still. "We'll come up with something." His voice was so smooth and reassuring, she just wanted to curl up against him and let herself drift away into dreams. "Whatever it becomes, it will most definitely be beautiful. How could it not be while it overlooks that?"

Some of the hurricane of cherry-blossoms swirled towards the room and stuck to the windowpane. Anna nodded at his words, her shoulders dropping a little and shuddering ever so slightly against him.

"It will happen, you know."

Her eyes dropped to the floor, studying the sizes of their feet. A whisper of a smile played at the corners of her mouth as she registered his meaning, not failing to understand when both of his palms came to lie flat upon her stomach. Warmth spread throughout her, a recognition.

"I know. Or at least, I hope." She placed her own hands on top of his, lacing their fingers together, before she turned around into his arms and met his eyes, radiating with honesty and pure love. "Perhaps I should feel otherwise, but I know there's no rush. I like us having this time to ourselves, to really settle and enjoy what we have." What they had was so much, it almost overwhelmed her every time she considered it. There in his arms she felt so safe, so secure, so very loved and she felt like she could not ask for anything more. "Even if it should not happen for us, then I can't be sorrowful. I've been given the whole world with you. More than I have ever dared to dream and all that I could ever want."

"Oh, Anna." He was still a little dumbfounded at her honest declarations of love but the look in his eyes that sought her soul told her that his heart was swelling. A tender hand came up to caress her face, the backs of his fingers smoothing across her cheek before his lips met hers with the most tenderness she'd ever known.

They stood in each other's embrace in the centre of the room, the only sounds surrounding them their gentle breaths against one another. Anna snuggled into him, closing her eyes for a few moments and feeling quite sure that she had never been so completely at peace. Right then, she appreciated the silence that was around them in the little room; one day, maybe sooner or maybe later, it would be scarce.

His voice began to vibrate against her head, once more voicing what she had held within it. "We should make the most of this because before long we won't have the time or space to stop for ourselves." His breath was warm against her hair as he let out a short chuckle. "The whole house will be filled with children, and then we'll wish for extra empty rooms. The place will be so full, we'll have to end up putting them in drawers."

She broke into uncontrollable laughter at the image, her cheek juddering against his chest as she struggled to contain herself, and his own chortling accompanied hers. Getting back her composure, she placed her palms upon his chest and gazed lovingly up at him as his hands rested strong upon her hips. She found that she couldn't take her eyes from his dark ones, and she stared deep into them until all she could see was his lips, inching ever closer towards hers. The kisses fell upon them, one after the other, soft and sweet and completely encompassing. He was her entire world in this moment, and forever.

She was just about managing to cling on to a coherent train of thought as his mouth finally left hers, and drifted upwards to place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, keeping her tight in his embrace.

"So, it's decided then," he proclaimed. "This is the nursery."

Anna rested her forehead against his chest and beamed. Her fingertips began to toy with the buttons on his waistcoat as his hands smoothed down her spine, and she glanced up at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Now seems as good a time as any to start practising," she purred.

* * *

From only a few nights, a million memories had been created, each one that followed more wonderful than the one that had preceded it. All of them burst back to life before him now as he stood in the room, burned into him to last an eternity. Every look, every touch, every sweet sensation were all so vivid; just recalling them sent tingles dancing upon every inch of his skin and made his head spin with euphoria. If he closed his eyes he could experience every single moment anew, yet they were blurred before him. Right now, there was nothing on earth that could make him look away from the sight of his beautiful and breathtaking wife, standing there so close to him, so real instead of the illusion of her he'd had to dream up for endless nights, in the room of the house that was theirs most completely.

The room where they had united once more, reclaiming that sole night spent at Downton for themselves so many times already; where they could truly be husband and wife.

He would remember for the rest of his life the first night they had spent together in the cottage, when they had both been so fevered with anticipation to find one another again that it was a small wonder that their lips had not collided upon each other and their hands clawed with little regard for keeping their clothing intact as soon as they had got through the door. They only had to exchange the briefest of glances to know that they were both so thrilled and utterly eager to savour everything that was awaiting them in the night that stretched so deliciously long and unburdened ahead, yet there lay in both of their eyes just a hint of hesitancy, that corresponded to their new surroundings but also to the fact that such intimacy was still so new to them. Though it was strong around them, expectation would not matter, not once they were in each other's arms again. It was just that both had waited, longed and yearned so much for this night for years, never mind months, that now it was here, they were both a little stunned by the realisation that they really were completely free to kiss, touch, caress; to love. He recalled how they had entered their bedroom, hand in hand with slow, searching steps that matched one another, full of nervous energy as they started to explore, getting used to the space and getting used to each other all over again. They had stood so close in front of one another, much like they were now, breathing erratically in the dark and with hands placed on the heart of the other, the hearts that belonged with each other. As their shadows touched, their bodies met, and the night unfolded, as they did to one another, and it was so very perfect, more so than he had ever been able to remember or imagine. Since then, they had returned each evening in every number of ways - walking once more hand in hand with knowing smiles upon their faces and in their eyes; clambering frantically up the staircase, taking fumbling steps between heated, passionate kisses. Some nights one of them would already be in the room, waiting under the covers for the other to climb in and when they were at each other's side, clasped in their embrace, the kisses would begin to come, slowly and softly at first as they sunk against the sheets, then becoming increasingly sensual, as hands followed the strokes of lips upon each other's bodies. Each time as heavenly as the last.

Tonight was different once more, and very intriguingly so. As the night fell, she had sauntered across the sitting room arriving before him where he sat and he hardly had to look into her eyes to be aware that she was very decisively taking the initiative this evening. All of his instincts were proved right as her soft fingers stroked his before she grasped his hand keenly, pulled him up and, without a word spoken, led him up the stairs, guiding him by her unwavering touch. She kept herself focused towards their destination but every few steps, she peeked at him over her shoulder, with a wonderfully coquettish smile playing upon her lips, and his limbs felt like lead. As they approached the door, she turned fully to him so he could be thoroughly enchanted by that smile for a mere few seconds, before he was left wanting again as she put her back to him to push the door of the bedroom gently open. He found himself even more stunned with wonder as she walked ahead of him into the room, surrounded by the warm flickering flames of the candles that had been placed all about it.  _So that's what she must have been up to when she had disappeared for so long earlier on._ He was hit by such an overwhelming sense of astonishment that he was finding the act of breathing somewhat difficult to achieve at this very minute.

It was hard for him to fathom exactly how things could possibly get any better. Every second of every night they had shared here had been so incredible, and the many wondrous sensations evoked so unlike anything he had ever been fortunate enough to experience in his life so far. He had never felt such overwhelming love, searing through every part of him, and he could most certainly attest that he had never been loved so attentively and with so much pure affection. They had made love that was so perfect and special, and as every curve of their bodies fitted so ideally together, he had known that she had been made just for him and he had been made just for her, and now they were finally allowed to be together, they would never let each other go, not for the rest of time. Though he could still behold the look of ecstasy etched on her features and her exclamations of pleasure, as well as his name repeated over and over, ringing so amazingly in his ears, he had felt like it had not been enough, not after all the long moments they had both spent wanting so desperately to love one another with the intensity of the feelings they both felt. He had been careful to ensure that their rediscovery of each other was not rushed, even with the fervour that was rushing through every pore of him, and had held himself back in the heat of it all, though his desire for her was so strong and almost painful to keep reserved, so that she was able to have the gratification she deserved so very much. And even though in all their nights since she had certainly appeared wholly satisfied with all of the attention he had lavished upon her, still he felt like he had been selfish, taking far more than he had given, like a beggar at a banquet, as a near-condemned man who was still greedy for every inch of his freedom would. She must know how deeply and ardently he loved her. He had to repay her every bit of love she had afforded to him for so long, to cherish her for life for redeeming and saving his own.

She inched closer to where he stood in the room, eyes burning with the heat of the flames that were around them and smouldering with her own desire. With each step she took towards him, her eyes never left him and he was beginning to be set ablaze. Suddenly she was right in front of him, looking so radiant and tempting. His gaze flickered from her eyes, still so deep and sparkling brilliantly blue in this light, to the wonderful curves of her lips, so sensuous and enticing. He could still taste them now and he desperately wanted to do so again this very second. Instead he watched mesmerised as she parted them to utter only two words.

"Undress me."

Her low, soft whisper played in his ears and on his mind; he wondered if he had imagined whether she had spoken it at all. Stunned by her boldness but at once completely aroused, feeling himself stir already, he faltered for the briefest of moments before he began to do as she commanded, shaking fingers reaching out to land at first on the soft cotton of her blouse, becoming increasingly adept as he unbuttoned, unlaced, removed each item one by one. His hands would still and lift as he made to take some of his own clothing off – the collar, the tie, the waistcoat – anxious that all of the impetus was being placed upon her unfairly, that once more the situation was veering dangerously to becoming weighted heavily on one side.  _She shouldn't have to offer so much of herself up with so little in return_. Before he could get very far, her hands rose up to him and stopped the movement of his own short. She laced his fingers with hers for a sweet moment before letting them fall away, with an assured smile set firm upon her face.

Anna appeared, completely exposed before him, and his breath was taken clean away. He tried his utmost not to stare too hard but he found he couldn't help it; she was far too captivating, and he could never get enough of her. His dark eyes lingered the length of her body, seeking out every hidden dip, curve and crease, all so very beautiful. It occurred to him as he continued to travel the path of her by sight alone that this was the first time he had ever really seen her in such a way, and he savoured and truly appreciated every inch he could take in. He had known and committed for forever the feel of her body beneath his fingers over the last few nights, but looking at it in front of him gave him quite a different sensory experience and was a completely new discovery. Before it had always been too dark in the room, or there had been a rush to uncover and lay his hands upon her skin, but now the soft candlelight was the perfect accompaniment, highlighting her beautifully, bathing her in a glow. His eyes roamed still, studying the flawlessness of her skin, milky and porcelain. He believed she must have been crafted by angels themselves in their likeness. From head to toe, she was strikingly pale, except for the tops of her ears which, even in this light, he could notice were tinged with a brush of redness. He heard himself let out an audible groan. How was she so incredibly alluring but also so totally adorable all at the same time? He was overwhelmed by her completely, and he had to be closer to her at once.

"Oh Lord, Anna…"

He watched his hands moving out into the air in slow motion towards her, to feel the wonder of her again underneath his fingertips, but before they could touch, her hands had landed upon him and she moved as close as she could possibly get, pressing her bare body against his. A hissing sound came from between his teeth as she pressed firm to him, moulding her petite frame completely to his expanse. The wonderful warmth emanating from her radiated, and the feel of her naked skin against his clothing was exhilarating , the difference in the textures fascinating. She sighed and shifted herself, pushing herself up on her toes to increase the contact even further. The swell of her breasts brushed against his chest; he could feel her heartbeat pulsing upon him through the fabric of his shirt, and it sent his own racing at a quickened pace. Her fingertips trailed from the base of his spine up towards the hair at the nape of his neck, stroking it softly, before she reached across to ghost them back and forth upon the patch of skin that was visible just above his shoulder. Her touch was masterful and incredible, sending shivers on the place where she guided it and a fire igniting lower within his body. He clasped his own hands tight to her back, drawing her still further to him, wanting to wrap her up and keep her safe now and forever. He tried to manoeuvre, change the pace and direction of the situation, to focus upon her, but she had quite different ideas, as her eyes settled hungrily upon his neck. She craned her head and dipped her lips to meet the spot of her intentions, spotting fine kisses there and in the hollow of his throat, all the while her caresses at his shoulder with one of her hands became greater, as the other crept down his body and hovered dangerously close to the increasing tightness in his trousers. Groaning, he tipped his head back and felt his eyes roll back within it at the unbelievable sensations of her ministrations. Gradually, he was slipping, getting lost in her all over again.

A synapse snapped and he was pulled back from the brink. As utterly heavenly as it was, he couldn't let himself surrender to her touch. Tonight had to be about her.

Carefully, he pulled her hands away from his body and watched as she stepped falteringly back, a sad, doe-eyed expression all over her face.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she pouted dejectedly, and a wave of adoration washed over him. How could she ever think that she could ever do anything wrong when it came to their intimacy? Every single thing she did do was oh so right.

"Oh, my darling, no." He gazed at her with eyes full of love and comfort, and lifted a hand to softly cup her cheek. "You never could, not for as long as I draw breath." His breath caught as he looked at her, shoulders tightened and her frame a little hunched with worry, and yet she was still utterly exquisite. His other hand reached out towards the curve of her hip. "Anna, you are so beautiful. You need to know how beautiful you are and just how much I love you. I love you so very much…"

Feather-light, he placed a hand upon the small of her back, his fingers feeling so cold against the warmth that was her completely. No sooner had he touched her did she let out a whimper, and the sound all at once undid him and urged him on.

With nimble fingers, he began to stroke the hand that laid there against her back, varying the fall of his fingertips as he started to glide them further up her spine. His other hand fell from her face down to wrap softly around her wrist, fingers moving across gently and caressing her pulse point, before he lifted the wrist he was holding up and dipped his lips to lay a line of kisses along her arm. He felt her shiver and heard her sigh as his mouth travelled along, reaching up to her shoulder, where he continued to pepper kisses before moving to her neck and jawline. Both of his hands were now upon her sides, stroking up and down tenderly, mapping the most sensitive spots of her skin out reverently with his fingertips. His lips finally reached her own, and he was met with eagerness by them, the kisses coming quickly at first, before sinking into a slow and deep sensuality that was savoured by them both. Tongues tangled and then caressed each other as his hands continued to journey upon her, moving tantalisingly higher, fingertips coming briefly into contact with the curve of her left breast. The thought lingered in his mind for all of a few seconds before he decided to make the move, yearning for the touch. Very gently, his hand cupped her breast, his thumb delicately brushing the nipple that peaked under his touch. Her mouth slipped from his on the contact and she let out a gasp. His other hand tangled into her hair and he brought his mouth to his ear.

"Anna," he whispered, reassuring her. She softened instantly underneath his repeated caresses and careful attention.

He kissed the side of her face tenderly before finding his way back to lips, delighting her with a series of soft and gentle kisses. As they kissed, his hands stroked her breasts, the fine creases of skin at the inside of her elbows, her back, the flat of her stomach. Their lips continued to move against each other as her hands circled around his neck, and his left settled upon the bone of her hip while his right lingered upon her stomach, a fingertip teasing at her belly button. He pulled her even closer to him, so their bodies were almost inseparable. He would never be able to completely comprehend the wonder of the sensation of having her so close against him. He covered her neck in ardent kisses, before leaving one more long kiss upon her lips, and then moved the hand that had been resting on her stomach lower between their bodies. Kissing her softly upon her shoulder, he began to stroke the hand beneath her. His fingers quested carefully and found their way to her, pushing gently inside. The overwhelming rush hit them both immediately and she cried out, the sound sending goosebumps shooting up upon his skin. As he caressed her there slowly and tenderly, their lips set themselves at another pace, hers fighting to meet his in a torrent of feverish kisses, her soft moans muffling. She struggled to keep up, and her mouth fell away from his, her head lolling against his shoulder as she clung onto his back.

"I love you," she managed to breathlessly whisper against him.

"I love you too," he responded, stroking the curve of her jaw softly and feeling her face burn with heat. He laid a gentle kiss just below her lips before he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. It wasn't very long before he could feel that her legs were in danger of buckling beneath her and so he extricated carefully, wrapped both arms strongly and securely around her and backed them both towards the bed.

He stripped the remainder of the clothes he was still wearing from his body before he lay down with her, skin touching skin at long last. The contact heightened and enlivened all of his senses and he sighed as her hands roamed across his back, her touch expressing the delight she felt with all of her body to finally have him bared to her. His thoughts were still solely on pleasing her, and his head bent down to press his lips to the little hollow between her breasts, tasting a little of the sheen of sweat that had gathered there, trailing down to her stomach. He stopped when he reached the top of her thighs, pausing to let his eyes travel up to her face. He saw that her eyes had fluttered shut and she was biting upon her lip softly, clearly in anticipation of what was to come. A smile flickered upon his lips as he dipped back down, guiding his hands gently across her thighs before he lowered and placed his mouth on the spot where so much of his attention had previously been. The room filled with her moans of pleasure as he went on, surrounding every inch of space, every part of him. As she reached a blissful end, he stroked her shaking legs softly, allowing her to settle and come down from the ecstatic high he had sent her soaring to. It was not long until they were both set off to the heavens again as he joined them so completely and so wonderfully once more. This room truly did belong to them both, as husband and wife.

He lay against the headboard of the bed, blinking his eyes against the rising sun whose light and heat was falling firm upon the closed curtains and filling the entire room with warmth. John felt it surrounding him, but knew that it could not possibly compare to the warmth that radiated deep throughout his heart and soul with the feeling of Anna laying with him. He glanced down at her, being careful not to move a muscle as she still slept, her soft breath falling in and out against the hair of his chest. The sight was one which he would hold perfectly in his memory and cherish forever more; her curled tight against him, head resting upon the crook of his neck with blonde hair flowing out all around her, her arm snuggled about his waist. She moved a little in her sleep, her grip on him tightening momentarily, and he noticed that there was a smile on her lips as she sighed out contentedly. He laughed softly to himself, being absolutely certain that he had also never been as content in his life as he was right now. Ever so gently, he touched a hand to her head and stroked the silky hair there, marvelling at her beauty and perfection, apparent at every second of the day.

He had known beforehand, in all the years he had longed and wished for it, that they would be at their happiest here. They had always managed against the odds to find happiness in one another but it was when they had a place of their own, to love and be loved so freely and completely, that they would truly be at bliss. And they were, and would always be, so long as they were with each other and especially when they were right here, in their home.

 _Home sweet home_. He remembered they were the first words that he had said to her here, the first words that had graced the walls as it truly became theirs. He still could see the wide smile that stretched upon her lips that met him as a reply, her silent affirmation. His eyes fell back down upon her to see a ghost of a smile still there as she continued to sleep, happily oblivious of the day that was beginning to unfold around them. John couldn't help it; he broke into a grin, thinking of the recent past, of the present, and of all the time that was to come.

It was their home, and that they could call it that was most definitely sweet.


End file.
